


You Look Good [In My Shirt]

by resonatingkitty



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M, domestic!wybrose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 15:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resonatingkitty/pseuds/resonatingkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bray's intent was returning to his locker room from his match when he's met with the problem of one horny Dean Ambrose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Look Good [In My Shirt]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoxFirefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoxFirefly/gifts).



> This is just smut. Pure and basic domestic!wybrose smut. 
> 
> My first official smut for this pairing! *pulls out celebratory drinks*

Bray is returning from his match of the night. He'd won sweetly with a Sister Abigail and left his opponent lying in the ring. He's heading to his and his boy's locker room that they claimed for the night. It's in the farthest, darkest corner of the building that they could find, far away from everyone. Bray doesn't much care for being around the rest of the locker room. Most of them generally don't like him nor his boys and he doesn't need them provoking his boys into altercations. 

When he gets close to the room he finds his boys; Luke, Erick, and Braun all standing outside. Luke is pacing back and forth looking furious. Erick is fiddling nervously with his hands. While Braun has a mix of confusion and anger mixed on his face as he flexes his fists. 

"What's the matter boys?" They all look relieved when Bray walks up. 

Luke nods to the door, "Ambrose is in there. Told us to leave. We... weren't sure what to do with him." 

"Is he now?" Bray pushes past them and swings open the door to the locker room. 

Sure enough Dean is not only in the room. But the blond is seated in his rocking chair, slightly rocking back and forth. He's not wearing a shirt but he had slipped on the Hawaiian shirt that Bray had taken off and left in the room before his match. Smug look on his face. Oh that look. Bray's mouth watered. 

"Fucking took you long enough," Dean smirks, head resting against the back of the chair as Bray walks into the room. His gaze shifts to the three men that file in behind their leader. "Thought they'd go running to you once I busted in here and told em to get." 

"And what makes you think that I'm not going to tell them to kick your ass right back out of here?" Bray's not going to do that. They both know it. But he has to keep up the charade. He feels Luke and Braun shift behind him. Both men would love nothing more than to be given the order. "Or better yet, what makes you think I won't kick your ass out of here?" 

"You want me gone?" Dean pushes himself out of the chair and saunters over to Bray, that smirk still on his face. He gets right up in Bray's personal space. Their eyes meet. "Just say the word and I'm gone." 

Bray surges forward, capturing Dean's mouth with his. He puts a hand on the side of Dean's face and walks them backwards, continuing until the back of Dean's legs hit the chair and the blond is forced to sit. Bray braces both his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping Dean there. He breaks the kiss and looks over his shoulder, ordering, "Boys come get your things. Go back to the hotel. We'll be joining you shortly." 

He turns his attention back to Dean as his boys come into the room and begin to gather their things. 

Dean's looking right at him, blue eyes dark. His dirty blond hair is disheveled. His hands come up to rest on the arm chair, ringers running down Bray's arms and over hands. He smiles as Bray's gaze darkens as well. 

Bray silently urges his boys to hurry the fuck up. If they didn't then well they'd just might get a show of him stripping and fucking Dean right here in the chair. Normally he'd be in control in these types of situation but control was one thing he couldn't manage when it came to Dean Ambrose. 

Finally after what felt like an eternity Erick, Luke, and Braun had their things together and were filing out of the room obediently. The door clicks shut behind them and Bray and Dean were now alone. 

"Fuck darlin," Bray says in a huff of breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding. He sinks down to his knees, his weight settling down on Dean's body. He reaches up, pulling him down for another kiss. 

Dean moans into his mouth as their lips part. Tongues find each other, teeth nips at each other's lips. Dean's hands tangle themselves in Bray's hair. 

Blood is soon tasted and Bray can't tell if it's from himself or Dean. It doesn't matter. Dean is arching up against him and he can feel how hard the blond man is. He is hard as well but he holds off. Breaking the kiss, Bray presses their foreheads together. His hands slide down across Dean's neck to his chest, pushing the material of his shirt to the side. Dean in anything that belonged to him was honestly hot as fuck. 

"So darlin is there any particular reason for this?" One of his hands finds a nipple and twists it causing Dean to arch and cry out. 

"Wanted you to fuck me," Dean gasps out, panting. He's kneading at Bray's shoulders now, rolling his hips so his clothed crotch rubs up against Bray's stomach. His naked desperation was just beautiful. 

"You coulda just asked," Bray reminds him, leaning in to kiss a trail down his neck before his teeth sink into the flesh hard enough to break the skin. 

A moan, loud and unashamed, falls from Dean's lips. It's not like there was anyone around to hear him. One of other reasons why Bray likes to get a locker room away from everyone. Not that he nor Dean particularly cares if the rest of the people hear them but it is better for all parties if they didn't. They've never been interrupted during sex but Bray can't imagine it ending well for the person who would have the unfortunate luck of interrupting them. They're not very gentle in their sexual encounters. 

"Didn't.." Dean's writhing now as he tries to speak, "fuck... didn't want to ask. Wanted to do this." He groans as Bray sinks his teeth into him again. One of his hands finds itself back in Bray's hair, "shit Bray you've got to fuck me now." 

"Very well" Bray pulls away and stands up. "I want you out of everything but my shirt," he orders before turning to head for his bag where he kept the lube. He rids himself of his undershirt along the way but leaves his pants on. When he finds the small bottle and turns back, Dean's wearing nothing but the red and black Hawaiian shirt and damn if it's not the most beautiful sigh in the world. 

Bray sits in his rocking chair, beckoning to Dean, "Come 'ere darlin." 

Dean's on him in an instant, crawling onto the chair, straddling his lap. Dean's mouth finds his and the blond's hips grind down against his clothed hardness frantically. 

His lamb was so eager. It pleased him. Bray pops the cap on the lube, covering his fingers with the slippery liquid before reaching around Dean. He pushes two fingers in and starts thrusting them, swallowing down Dean's moans. 

Dean moves back to meet him, fucking himself on the fingers. His hands are gripping Bray's shoulders hard enough but leave marks but neither care. They're too engrossed in one another. Dean breaks the kiss, pulling up and away from Bray. He slips off his lap and starts undoing the pants. "You've got to fuck me fucking right now." 

Bray arches himself off the chair, letting Dean finish undressing him. As soon as his cock is freed, he pours more lube on his hand and slicks himself. He grips Dean's hips when the blond crawls back in his lap, helping to ease him down as he sinks down into Bray's cock. Both men moan in unison when Dean's hips sit flush with Bray's.

Dean doesn't wait. He grips the arms of the chair tightly before beginning to rock himself in earnest. Head thrown back Eyes skyward. Mouth hanging open. 

Bray meets Dean's thrusts, fucking up whenever the blond sinks down to drive himself deeper. He shifts his hips, getting a new angle and smirks when Dean almost screams out. Bingo. Dean's rocking falters slighting and Bray plants his feet against the floor, begins to thrust at that angle hitting Dean's prostate every single time. 

"Touch yourself," He growls.

One of Dean's hands wraps itself around his cock and he strokes himself three maybe four times before he's cumming all over himself and Bray. A loud shout leaves his lips. 

The tightening walls drag Bray over the edge and he comes, Dean's name falling in the mists of his groan. 

Dean slumps down against him and he wraps his arms around the blond. They're both gasping, trying to get their breath. 

"Holy shit," Dean manages after a while, forehead still resting on Bray's shoulder. 

"I believe that was the most intense one yet darlin'" Bray agrees, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face. 

They stay like that a while longer before Bray manages to coax Dean up. They had to get to the hotel and clean up. There wasn't a shower in the locker room and neither man felt like going to hunt another locker room that had one. 

"You're shirt is ruined," Dean comments as he stands, looking down at the cum covered, not only by his orgasm but slumping again Bray's chest, shirt. He slips it off and hands it to Bray so he could use it to wipe the cum of himself. 

"It'll wash," Bray responds after he's wiped himself the best he could. He drops the shirt on the floor by the rocking chair temporarily as he pulls up his pants and refastens them. He then picks up the shirt and drops it in a bag with his other dirty clothing. 

Dean's gathered his clothes and was sitting in the chair, trying to get his pants back on. It dons on Bray that the man doesn't have a shirt with him. 

"Darlin what happened to your shirt?" 

"Oh um..." Dean gets his pants up and looks sheepishly at Bray, hand coming up to rub the back of his head, "I got it caught on something on the way down here and tore a big hole in it. I already had put my stuff in the truck. 'S why I got yours when I got down here." 

Bray chuckles, shaking his head. He turns back to his duffel, rummaging through it before he found a shirt for Dean. He tosses it to the blond, who catches it and stares down at it before arching an eyebrow.

"Bray introduced me to Sister Abigail? Seriously?" Dean grumbles as he slips the shirt on over his head. Bray had gotten one of the shirts when they first became available. He'd never liked it so never wore it but he had to admit, it looked good on Dean. 

"Speaking of Abigail," Dean looks at the rocking chair before grinning at Bray, "You think she'd be okay with us fucking in her chair?" 

"Oh trust me darlin'" Bray smiles, zipping up his duffel bag and placing it over his shoulders. He picks up his lantern, turning to Dean, "If she mined, we'd have known about it." He holds his free hand out to Dean, "Shall we get going then?"

"You're just going to leave th-" Dean starts but stops himself, shaking his head and mumbling as he takes Bray's hand and they start out the room, "Oh right. The chair's haunted I keep forgetting." 

"The chair isn't haunted darlin'. It just knows it's way back home," Bray says as they start down the hall. 

"That makes it fucking haunted then." 

Bray shakes his head, smiling. He doesn't say anything. Wouldn't do any good. Dean believes what he wants to believe and that's just fine with Bray. If Dean wants to think that everything is haunted instead of acknowledging the fact that Abigail is watching then that's fine. Bray can thank her enough for the both of them.


End file.
